Page 8 of Lady of Providence
“Pardon me?” she said, one eyebrow arched, and he was aware that she very clearly knew what he had said, but was attempting to provoke him further.
“Oh, I’m just telling myself how fortunate it was that I was in the carriage next to you when I heard you cry out. I was also congratulating myself on a job well done, as quite obviously you were not going to do so.”
She shot a glare toward him, one he sensed even in the dim light.
“You are as conceited as ever,” she said with disdain.
“I only speak the truth.”
“As you see it.”
“When one is a duke in England, he may typically decide what is the truth.”
“And that,Your Grace, is precisely the problem.”
They sat in silence for a moment, until Elizabeth suddenly jumped out of her reverie.
“My goodness! The driver and the groom — I have to go check on them to see if they are all right.”
“Allow me,” Gabriel said, though of course, Elizabeth didn’t listen. No, she stood and tried to brush past him, but he blocked her with his body.
“Stay here, Elizabeth. It’s bad enough you are out on the streets at all tonight, but to be out of the carriage would be more than foolish.”
He could tell she wasn’t pleased with his words but, at the very least, she listened, though she crossed her arms and looked rather perturbed as he let himself out the carriage door. In truth, he did care about her safety, but he was also rather concerned about what might be awaiting outside.
Fortunately, the driver was brushing himself off, and while the groom was rubbing at a bump on his head, they both seemed to be in fair enough condition.
“Just a few scratches, Your Grace,” they told him after he shared his identity and what had occurred, and Gabriel nodded, confirmed they were able to continue the short drive to the church, and returned to Elizabeth, who was tapping her foot impatiently.
“Now tell me. Just what do you think you are doing out here alone?” he asked, and she sighed as though answering his question was a hardship.
“That is a rather idiotic question, especially coming from a man I know to be far more intelligent,” she said with an indignant look toward him. “I am attending my grandfather’s funeral, of course, just as you are.”
“If we are speaking of intelligence, then I must ask, Elizabeth, if you had not expected that something such as this might occur?”
“I thought of it,” she responded. “That is why I brought Glouster.”
“The groom?”
“Yes.”
“A lot of good that did for you.”
“How would it have been different if I were a man within this carriage? If I were my brother? What protection would he or you have that I do not?”
“I have a dagger in my boot, for one.”
“You do not.”
“I do — would you like to see?”
“Not particularly.”
“A woman is far more likely to wear jewels, to have riches available for the taking,” he continued in what he felt was a fine argument.
“I am wearing no jewelry but a pair of ear bobs. I am in mourning.”
“They do not know that, Elizabeth. Where are your parents?”
